


Hormonally Yours

by Nokomis



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: De-Aged Derek, M/M, Stakeout, post-4x01, with memories
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-30
Updated: 2014-06-30
Packaged: 2018-02-06 21:05:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1872423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nokomis/pseuds/Nokomis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles is on a stakeout with adorably teenaged Derek. Makeouts happen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hormonally Yours

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place post-4x01, only I elected to keep Derek's memories intact for reasons. Originally posted on tumblr [here](http://nokomiss.tumblr.com/post/90315433562/oooh-prompt-requests-um-derek-stiles-stakeouts-with).

Stiles sort of thought that the rescue effort would end once, you know, they _rescued Derek_ , but of course it didn’t work out like that.  Because they might have gotten him out of that hell-church, but it is absolutely not okay that Derek is suddenly adorably teenaged.

 

Stiles can’t stop staring in delight at how very adorably teenaged Derek is. “You are seriously the cutest. This is so rad. Can I pinch your cheeks?”

 

He reaches out but Derek flinches back and gives Stiles the baby version of Derek’s _get the hell away from me if you want to keep your limbs intact_ look.  It’s in no way a deterrent and in every way a source of absolute delight.

 

“Do you ever shut the hell up?”  Derek bitches.  His voice is young and reedy and in no way the grumpy growl that Stiles is used to.  

 

“This is just the greatest thing,” Stiles says, snapping a few more photos for posterity.  

 

“It’s not,” Derek says. “This is the most humiliating thing.”  He glares moodily out the window.

 

“This is the great equalizer, my friend,” Stiles corrects. “You got to see me in my awkward coltish phase. Now I get to see you when you were…”  He trails off, because baby Derek isn’t, like, hideous or dorky-looking or even unfortunately proportioned.  He’s just shorter and skinnier and less hairy, which is ironic given the whole werewolf thing.  He’s also hot, in a far more accessible way than Derek normally is, but Stiles sure as hell isn’t going to tell him that.

 

Mostly it’s a delight because it’s the first _funny_ terrible thing that’s happened to Derek, and after the clusterfuck that’s been the last year of their lives, Stiles absolutely needs this sort of comic book villainous action in his life, instead of all-consuming evil and human sacrifice and whatnot.

 

(Well, it’s only funny since Derek is still, well, current Derek in there, and that they got him away before Kate did… whatever it was Kate was going to do.  The implications of the de-aging makes Stiles’ stomach turn, and Derek is resolutely not talking about Kate Argent being alive, and yeah. Stiles is doing him a massive favor by making this all about Derek’s fantastically peachfuzzed upper lip instead of about anything else.)

 

“We’re just going to sit here and wait until the guy comes out of the warehouse,” Derek says resolutely.  “Then we’re going to beat the snot out of him until he tells us where to find the missing seal that will reverse this.”

 

“Beat the snot out of him,” Stiles repeats happily. “Will do.”

 

Derek flushes. Stiles wonders if he grows out his scruff in the future to hide how red his cheeks get.  Stiles’ cheeks kind of hurt from grinning.

 

“Shut up,” Derek mumbles at the window.  

 

“You aren’t mentally regressing, are you?” Stiles asks, suddenly serious. “Because no offense to past you, dude, but I don’t want to be stuck in a car with a suddenly mentally confused teenage werewolf. That never ends well.”

 

“I’m not,” Derek grumps.

 

There’s literally no movement from the warehouse -- the only sign of life is the flickering of light out of one of the lower windows, like their mark is maybe watching TV, but Stiles can’t disable the security cams and they don’t want Kate knowing that they’ve figured out who her mystic supplier is  -- and Stiles is pretty bored, so he says, “Prove it.”

 

“Prove it,” Derek repeats blandly. “What do you want me to do, recite facts at you?”

 

Stiles drums his fingers on the steering wheel. He hadn’t thought the challenge through, because in movies…  

 

Okay, in movies, “Prove it” is usually a lead-up to a makeout scene, and Stiles wasn’t… He definitely wasn’t aiming to get into Derek’s suddenly age-appropriate pants, okay. Probably. Okay, he was totally interested in Derek’s pants, regardless of age.  

 

“Yes?” he says uncertainly.

 

“You want me to recite facts.” Derek raises his eyebrow.  It’s stupidly charming, even on his baby face.

 

“About me,” Stiles blurts, because he is his own worst enemy.

 

“You’re a shithead, for one,” Derek says, more cheerfully than Stiles believes is strictly necessary. “And you need to stop looking like you just won the freaking lottery every time you look at me, because this is serious.”

 

“Doesn’t everyone look at you like that?” Stiles points out, just to be fair. “I mean, look at you. It’s like seeing a movie star out in the wild. It’s your fault for being stupidly gorgeous.”

 

Derek is silent for a long moment, and Stiles abruptly realized that Derek was pointing out that Stiles is maybe being a bit of a shithead about the deaging thing, and that his second point was directly related to that, not how Stiles personally feels about Derek Hale’s stupidly perfect appearance.

 

“I mean,” Stiles frantically backtracks, “that it’s… stupidly funny. To see your stupid face. That isn’t in the slightest bit breathtakingly gorgeous and oh god, Derek, this is your cue to hit me or to shut me up somehow or something, _anything_.”

 

Derek looks at him, face stony. Stiles is pretty sure that he wants to sink through the seat and die.  Maybe Derek will take mercy on him and kill him.  It would be a relief, to not have to deal with whatever’s coming.

 

Then Derek’s face cracks into a motherfucking grin. “You like me.”

 

There’s a teasing edge, and Derek sounds so young and carefree that Stiles can’t do anything but agree.

 

Derek’s physically younger, and his eyes are so much less guarded, which is the only reason Stiles realizes that Derek’s hand gripping the front of his shirt is leading towards something awesome instead of something painful.  Derek pulls him in close and kisses him.

 

Stiles’ eyes widen in amazement, which is an A+ move on his part because it allows him to see Derek’s eyes flutter shut, which is going to go down as one of Stiles’ Top Five Memories.  

 

It’s a great kiss, and it’s followed up by several phenomenal kisses and a few more-than-friends hand placements.  Derek does a pretty fantastic job of remembering how to work his younger smaller body, and Stiles would be lying if he said he didn’t miss the older, more muscled version of Derek, but younger Derek? Still very, very nice.  

  
“This is really, really nice,” Stiles babbles when Derek stops kissing him, which happily just causes Derek to roll his eyes and kiss him to shut him up. Which, Stiles decides, is definitely going to get a check mark in the ‘acceptable ways to end Stiles’ verbal diarrhea’ category.

 

Unfortunately, when Stiles pulls away to inform Derek of this, he catches movement out of the corner of his eye and realizes that the guy they’re supposed to be watching has left the warehouse, gotten into his car and is in the process of driving away.

 

“That was glorious,” Stiles says as adjusts himself in his seat and starts the engine.

  
“Shut up and drive,” Derek says, but Stiles catches his grin out of the corner of his eye.


End file.
